


Falling

by sebastiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Brief suicidal thoughts, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, comforting!dean, fallen!cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-21
Updated: 2013-07-21
Packaged: 2017-12-20 21:36:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/892149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sebastiel/pseuds/sebastiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Because falling's not the problem, when I'm falling I'm in peace. It's only when I hit the ground it causes all the grief." - 'Falling' by Florence + the Machine<br/>8x23 reaction fic because I simply had to write something after all that pain. One-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling

**Author's Note:**

> (Originally posted on ff.net so I'm just copying and posting the A/N okay)
> 
> Since I have just recently caught up with SPN (a long and painful process) and started reading Destiel fanfiction religiously, I have decided to write some for my own. In case the season finale didn't leave you with enough feels, here, have some more.

_What have I done?_

The question repeated itself over and over in Castiel's mind, a broken record drilling ice cold anguish into his very soul with every skip of the needle. His piercing blue eyes swept over the light streaked night sky as balls of fiery orange light danced across the horizon, and if Castiel hadn't known any better he would have stood in awe at such a breathtaking phenomenon. But those balls of light were his brothers and sisters, the ones he had once held most dear, and as he watched them plummet to the earth with wings aflame, he found his breath being taken away in a much different sense.

_What have I done?_

He desperately wanted to turn away, to shield himself from the massacre unfolding before him, but Castiel remained frozen as they continued to fall one by one, endlessly, perpetually, ceaselessly. He wondered if they'd ever stop falling, if the unbearable agony and guilt that was steadily devouring him from the inside out with every fall of an angel would cease.

But this was what he deserved. He deserved to bear witness to the result of his actions, the result of his naïveté, the result of his carelessness. He deserved to stand there for an eternity as the sheer weight of what he had done enveloped him, slowly consuming his being and crushing him.

_What have I done?_

Castiel could feel his grief manifesting itself already, a large lump forming in his throat and choking him. He then felt a peculiar prickling sensation in the corner of his eyes, but before he could question the experience he felt a warm wetness begin to trickle down his cheeks. He reached a hand up and dabbed at the liquid, inspecting the moisture on his fingertips curiously. He was crying. For the first time, since the dawning of time, Castiel was crying, a completely human experience.

Human. The realization came crashing down on Castiel, causing his heart to clench tightly and his breathing to hitch in his clogged up throat. He was no longer inside of a vessel, he was no longer occupying Jimmy Novak's body, he was inside of his own.

He was now weak, average, useless. The word was a white hot dagger twisting in his stomach. Dean had said it before, without his powers Castiel was nothing but 'a baby in a trench coat', irrevocably and completely _useless_. He would now only be a burden to the Winchester duo, a washed up ex-angel with nothing but a battered and beaten soul and a head inundated with ignorance-tainted good intentions.

His eyes flickered down to the angel blade that he had subconsciously drawn from his sleeve, his thumb thoughtfully stroking the cool metal. He could end it all in one simple motion, one jab to the heart would be all he needed. The corner of his mouth quirked at the thought, it was almost humorous how extraordinarily fragile human beings were. The angel blade wasn't even necessary, Castiel literally had thousands of options. It was all so heartbreakingly simple.

"Cas? Cas!"

Castiel's eyes slid close, his grip on the angel blade slackening and his lips uttering a single word in a broken whisper.

_"Dean."_

His eyes remained closed as the sound of running footsteps became closer before stopping directly in front of him. Warm, rapid paced breathing fanned out over his face as caring calloused hands touched everywhere they could, his hair, his face, his neck, his shoulders, his arms, his hands, his chest, as if they were confirming he was really there and not a mirage. They eventually settled on his face, caressing it delicately as if they were afraid that too much force would cause it to shatter.

"Shit, Cas," a voice breathed, a voice rough and rugged yet gentle and loving, a voice that made Castiel's heart skip a beat every time he heard it. "Cas, look at me, man."

He did as he was told practically automatically, his sapphire blue eyes colliding with emerald green ones. He felt his heart rate quicken as the evergreen orbs that were overflowing with concern flickered over his face as if silently searching for something. "Dean." He licked his dry lips, feeling an overwhelming need to say something, anything, but not sure what. "I-"

"What the fuck are you doing with that?" The demand almost sounded angry, a touch of panic laced into Dean's tone as he stared down at the blade still clutched in Castiel's hand.

Castiel blanched, a feeling of shame washing over him. "I...I don't-"

But his answer was left unsaid as Dean tore the blade from his grasp, tossing the weapon aside before yanking the raven haired man into a tight embrace. Something inside Castiel broke, then, and he found himself clinging to the hunter with white knuckles as his resolve shattered and scattered in the wind, leaving Castiel sobbing uncontrollably into Dean's jacket.

"Shh, Cas, it's okay. I've got you," Dean cooed, his voice soft and soothing in Castiel's ears like a security blanket and his hands gingerly stroking his hair.

"What have I done, Dean?" Castiel whispered, his voice small and broken as the question that had been haunting him since discovering Metatron's true intentions finally passed his lips. He pulled back with wide horrified eyes that scanned the hunter's face frantically, as if the answer lied hidden there. "What have I done?" The question was repeated more desperately, hysterically, Castiel's frame trembling violently as his body threatened to be wracked with sobs once more.

He could practically see the elder Winchester's heart break at his words, his hands coming up to cradle Castiel's face in his palms as he brushed away the tears streaming down Castiel's cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. "Shh, it's not your fault," he reassured, his eyes brimming with sympathy and a miniscule hint of pity. "It's okay, baby, you didn't know." Castiel was caught off guard by the endearment, and apparently Dean was as well as he stiffened for the briefest of seconds, but the moment passed and Dean pulled Castiel tight against his body once more.

They stayed like that for a long while, Dean's arms strong and secure around Castiel whose body was interminably wracked with sobs even long after his siblings stopped falling. Castiel felt as if he were drowning from it all, the only thing keeping him afloat and gasping for air being Dean's warm embrace.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I'm sorry." His voice was nothing more than a whimper, a strangled plea for forgiveness. He had caused this man so much pain and suffering since he had raised him from perdition, from shattering the wall that Death had so munificently placed in Sam's mind to carrying the Leviathans from Purgatory which resulted in the death of Bobby, yet here Dean was holding Castiel close and painstakingly piecing together the fragments of the fallen angel that had shattered from the moment the last trial had been completed.

"Hey, no, none of that." Castiel barely suppressed a whimper as Dean's warmth was suddenly gone, the hunter holding him by the shoulders at arm's length and his forest green eyes boring into Castiel's with such an intensity that the ex-angel felt a shiver down his spine. "We're going to fix this, okay? It's going to be alright." The intensity in his eyes vanished, then, replaced with a tender smile on his lips as his hand came up to rest on Castiel's cheek. Castiel found his body reacting almost instinctually to the contact, his shoulders deflating by a fraction and the hurricane of emotions in his soul pausing for a miniscule second. Dean's smile grew at Castiel's response, and before Castiel's mind could process what was happening he suddenly felt a pair of soft lips on his forehead. A shaky breath escaped his lips and his eyes fluttered close as an unfamiliar warmth spread throughout his body. "You're going to be okay," Dean murmured against his skin, his voice barely a whisper. "I'm going to fix this, alright? I promise."

Though Castiel knew Dean's words were impractical, impossible even, he couldn't help but gulp down every promise that poured from Dean's lips. They were something for him to cling onto, something to keep him fighting. Castiel _needed_ to keep fighting. If not for himself, then for Dean, because regardless of the fact that Castiel had let him down time and time again, the hunter had confessed that he needed Castiel just as much as Castiel needed Dean, and as long as that fact continued to be true, Castiel would need keep fighting.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really ehhh on that ending because I didn't exactly thoroughly have this planned out…but whatever! I hope you all enjoyed, and if you did don't be shy to leave a comment. If any of you guys have any other Destiel prompts for me (trust me I am OPEN to any ideas) please please please send me some in either a comment or an ask sent to my Tumblr (the url is also sebastiel). Thanks guys!


End file.
